Taking off the Mask
by georgesgurl117
Summary: She had always taken him at his word because that's who Severus Snape was – a man of his word. But he was also a master of occlusion. Challenge entry.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Not mine and never will be. Sigh.**

**A/N: This story is an entry into a challenge set by the Lovers of the Potions Master facebook group. The prompt was as follows: _Sev and an oc (your own or borrowed if you never made one or create one if you like) are in an established relationship. An argument ensues based on an unresolved issue (feelings for Lily, lack of proposal, whatever) it's up to you what they fight over. It causes them to almost break up (one side or the other thinking this). Angst is what we are shooting for,and romance. Try to make it as angsty as you can without over doing it. As this will be our Halloween challenge as well, feel free to add in that as an element_.**

**For those of you following my other stories, I am nearly done with an update for Rumored in Love and am working on Bound to Him whenever I have a few moments to myself. Unfortunately, lab rotations, two class presentations, and a massive fellowship application due next week are making me quite the antisocial little girl. My apologies.**

**I look forward to your reviews.**

* * *

**Chapter 1**

"Bugger."

Rhiannon Ross frowned at the glow emanating from the tip of her wand. _Maybe if you try it again…_

Clinging desperately to that sliver of hope, the witch tucked a chestnut-hued lock behind her ear and looked back down at the book propped up on the bathroom cabinet. Tracing her finger across the weathered page, she focused on the depicted wand motions until she was fully confident in enacting the charm. When the second attempt yielded the same result as the first, she flung the book off the edge of the counter and ran her hands through her hair.

"Fuck, fuck… fuckity fuck!"

With tears stinging at her eyes, Rhiannon sank down to the floor, hiding her face behind her hands. _This can't be happening._

"Oh gods," she moaned. "He's going to kill me."

_Chop me up into tiny pieces, light me on fire, and toss the ashes into the middle of the ocean, _kill_ me_. After a minute of clunking the back of her head against the cabinet door, the woman sighed and closed her eyes.

_Get a hold of yourself, Rhee. He isn't going to kill you. He'll probably throw you out, but he won't kill you_. A hysterical laugh escaped her mouth as she hauled herself to her feet. Feeling suddenly light-headed, the tall witch stumbled back into the bedroom and mournfully collapsed onto the bed.

It was no great secret that Severus Snape disliked children. In fact, it was public knowledge. Anyone who had ever had him as a professor knew that he detested them. After the War, upon recovering his health and being cleared of any criminal charges, he outright refused to resume the post. Instead, he had gone into seclusion, ultimately starting a mail-order potions business to continue to avoid people as much as possible. He was meticulous with his brewing, and his products were impeccable. No better potioneer existed within the British Isles, which was why St. Mungo's had spared no expense in recruiting him to manage their laboratories.

It was also why he trusted no one else to brew his personal draughts, and he insisted on doing the same for the witch with whom he had regularly shared his bed for the past two years. He was the one who brewed her supply of contraception, and he was the one who explicitly asked whether she had remembered to take it.

He did not want children. They were whiny and needy and demanding. They were messy and sticky. They broke things. They required flexibility and patience – two things of which he was in short supply. He was quick to temper, incredibly rigid in his daily routine, unbelievably tidy, and liked things done his way. He had spent far too many years toiling under everyone else's thumb; but now he was the one in control of his own life. He enjoyed finally being able to hold his own reins.

Yet here his girlfriend lay curled into a ball on the middle of his bed, unexpectedly, yet undeniably, pregnant.

_How could this have happened?_ Rhiannon stared blankly at the wall, trying to process it. She had never forgotten to take the contraceptive potion – or if she had, Severus had reminded her to do so. Touching one hand to her stomach, she could not tell that there was anything out of the ordinary there, so she doubted that she was very far along.

She had been periodically nauseous over the past day or two, which had prompted the wizard to leave her a few potions on the bedside table before he left for the St. Mungo's laboratory. The witch glanced at the now empty bottles and sighed. The anti-nausea draught would likely help, but the Pepper-Up Potion derivative stood no chance of putting her back to rights.

_It's a derivative of the original, because the original…_

"Fuck!" she hissed, slamming her eyes shut and pulling on her bangs with one hand. The standard recipe for the Pepper-Up Potion – thanks to Severus and a colleague at St. Mungo's– had been shown to significantly decrease the efficacy of most contraceptives due to some sort of ingredient interaction. She knew this, of course, but it had not crossed her mind the month prior when she had been feeling run down at work and Rosmerta had dug out a bottle from behind the bar.

With a disheartened groan, Rhiannon begrudgingly rolled off of the bed and trudged out into the hallway. She highly doubted that Severus would appreciate the bitter irony of the situation. Had it happened to someone else, it would have been entertaining, but since she had been the one oblivious to the life sprouting in her womb, she was far from amused.

Reaching the top of the staircase, she wrapped her arms about her waist before slowly descending. With each squeak of the steps, it seemed another question churned in her mind. _How am I going to tell him? Will he insist on getting rid of it? Do I want to do that? Do I want children? Am I even cut out to be a mother? And what about us? Are we meant to be together? How long could this possibly last?_

That final thought hit hard as she came to the bottom of the stairs. Fear niggled at the back of her mind as she glanced about the empty sitting room. The space was undeniably masculine, with heavy leather furniture and dark wood. The bookcases were full, but orderly. Nothing was strewn about on the floor, and even the journals on the coffee table were tidy. Everything about it screamed 'Severus Snape'.

_Of course it would. It's his house. He just lets you sleep here a few nights a week._ Rhiannon frowned as she stared at the end table which held the only visible evidence of her presence in his life – besides her cloak, which he had picked up off of the couch and hung upon the rack near the door – a framed photograph of them at her godmother's birthday dinner two weeks prior. He had protested both when it was taken – the picture-Severus scowled often and looked put-upon the rest of the time – _and_ when she had dared set it out after she received it in the post. He had not stopped grumbling about it until she had sufficiently distracted him by undoing his trousers and dropping to her knees. After that, he did not seem to mind it as much.

To be fair, it _was_ a horrid photograph, but it was the only physical object she had to commemorate the second anniversary of their relationship. There had not been any flowers or candy or gifts – just supper with her godmother in Hogsmeade followed by a rather thorough shagging – against the front door, the wall at the top of the stairs, and again upon their finally making it to the bedroom.

_But what if that's all he wants?_ _Mind-blowing sex and a warm body at night_? She even doubted that the last bit was true since it had taken an entire year before he agreed to spend the entire night with her, and even then it had to be in _his_ bedroom on _his_ terms. There had even been nights in the past when he had flatly refused to let her stay, explaining that he was tired and needed more sleep than he obtained when she was snuggled up against him.

The witch had always taken him at his word because that's who Severus Snape was – a man of his word. But he was also a master of occlusion. _What if he's just been putting up with me all this time, and those nights he was too tired to pretend? _

_What if I've brought this all on myself?_ Rhiannon covered her face with her hands. Her step-mother had cautioned her against taking a man to bed on the first date, and her godmother had strongly advised her to never be intimate with someone until she was certain she loved him. It had always seemed eye-rollingly obvious to her, but at thirty-two years of age she had stupidly ignored both of them. _Why didn't I listen?_

_Damn it! Why am I thinking like this? _The witch sniffled loudly, blinking away the tears threatening to form. Though she had not felt her best physically, she had been so looking forward to accompanying Severus to the International Medicinal Potioneering Society symposium that was being hosted in Norway in a few days. She was not a member of IMPS, so she could not attend any of the sponsored events, but there was bound to be downtime during the week-long conference that they could spend together exploring the northern Norwegian countryside.

She had been so excited about the trip, yet now all she could think about was how Severus had not even invited her on his own. Her many hints had fallen on deaf ears, and when she finally gave up and asked him point blank if she could go, it had taken nearly two days before he agreed to it. There was also the fact that they would be travelling via portkey, which would require her to declare her pregnancy to the Portkey Office.

The longer she thought on it, the more it seemed the walls were closing in on her. It was not even noon, and she was already exhausted. If this was due to her hormones wreaking havoc on her system, she was not looking forward to the months ahead.

Not wanting to stay any longer than she already had, Rhiannon accioed her cloak from the rack and crossed over to the Floo. She had a few hours before she was supposed to meet her godmother in London, and she damn well was not spending it here.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

"You're exceptionally quiet this afternoon, Rhiannon."

At the sound of her name, the witch looked toward the elder woman walking beside her. "Sorry, Aunt Min. I've just… been lost in thought, I guess."

"I've noticed," her godmother smiled kindly. "Anything wrong?"

Shivering slightly in the bite of the autumn wind, Rhiannon glanced hesitantly about the crowds in Diagon Alley. "I don't really want to talk about it."

"I see," the witch murmured. "Perhaps after some more retail therapy, then?"

The younger woman gave a disbelieving laugh, pushing strands of hair behind her ear. "I've never found shopping to be the magical cure-all it's made out to be."

"Neither have I, but it certainly can't hurt anything," the greying witch chuckled. "Besides, while I have you, I wonder if I might pick your brain about your stepmother's Christmas present."

"Aunt Minerva, it's only October."

"Yes, and there are very few times when I am ever able to get out of the castle for personal time," the current Hogwarts Headmistress replied. "Make trouble while you can, I say."

Her companion smirked while eyeing a number of the storefronts. "Alright, what did you have in mind?"

"Well," McGonagall quirked her lips. "She did give me that lovely bracelet –"

"Which you hated," Rhiannon interjected, "because it was gods-awful atrocious."

The elder woman snorted quietly. "It was the thought that counted, dear. But I was thinking jewelry might be nice."

"There's Gemma's Jewels over there or Lapilli's Trinkets and Talismans a little ways yonder."

Minerva nodded and tilted her head. "Which would you prefer?"

"Well, Lapilli's is quite a bit more expensive, but something tells me that Gemma hasn't quite forgiven me for hexing her granddaughter's hair blue twenty years ago," she sighed, adjusting the sleeves of her robes.

The woman chuckled as they set off in the direction of Lapilli's shop. "I had almost forgotten that little incident."

"I haven't," Rhiannon sighed. "I don't think Severus will ever let me, either. If I ever snap at him, he brings it up. And if he doesn't actually say anything out loud, then the prat makes it a point to check his hair before he leaves the room."

McGonagall tutted under her breath. "Oh, _that_ man. Honestly, I never imagined he'd find anyone willing enough to put up with him. If you've made it two years without hexing his hair – or something else – off entirely, you're a much more patient woman than I."

The other witch smiled uncomfortably before folding her arms against her abdomen. The pair continued walking in silence until they were standing in the middle of the brightly lit jewelry shop, where a boisterous wizard greeted them from behind the counter.

"Shall we start with rings?" Minerva asked, moving toward the row of cases. "You start on that end and then we'll work our way to the middle."

"But this is the more expensive end," the younger woman stated, eyeing it hesitantly.

"I know, dear, but you're the one with the more discriminating taste. I'll know there isn't anything worth having down there if you say so."

Rhiannon narrowed her brows, but glanced through the velvet lined cases. Dozens of rubies, sapphires, and emeralds winked at her from their metal encasings, and diamonds were practically everywhere. Undoubtedly, her stepmother would sell her left kidney to have any of them, but as lovely as the woman was, she really did not need such an extravagant gift. Blowing out a small breath, the witch longingly eyed a spectacular opal ring for a moment before meeting her godmother's questioning gaze.

"Anything?"

She sighed, scratching her eyebrow. "I don't know. Susanne really doesn't wear rings besides what Da's given her."

"Perhaps a necklace then? Or earrings?" McGonagall glanced about the room before smiling at her shopping partner. "And what about you? Anything you find appealing?"

Though her eyes flicked briefly in the direction of the brightly-colored opal, she shook her head. "I don't need anything."

"Well, of course you don't _need_ it!" the witch chuckled. "But a godmother is always in need of ideas for her favorite goddaughter."

"Your _only_ goddaughter."

"All the more reason."

Rhiannon rolled her eyes and swept her gaze about the shop. "I think Susanne might prefer earrings, actually. And there appears to be an exceptionally ghastly pair on sale over there."

Minerva laughed softly. "You and I are more alike than not, I'm afraid."

* * *

Stepping out of Fancythings Clothing Shoppe, Rhiannon stifled a yawn and briefly touched her stomach.

"Oh, are you hungry, dear?" McGonagall asked, adjusting the shopping bags on her arm.

Feeling suddenly famished, the brunette witch nodded.

"Camellia's doesn't look terribly busy right now," the Headmistress stated. "Why don't you find us a table, while I pop into the Owl Post Office? I forgot to stop by the Owlery before leaving Hogwarts."

Agreeing, the woman entered the cheery café and selected a comfortable booth in the back corner. She put in an order for tea and then proceeded to stare blankly at the menu for several minutes.

"Oh, there will be snow soon, methinks," Minerva wheezed, dropping onto the bench. Eyeing the steaming tea cup floating onto the table in front of the other woman, she cleared her throat. "It's my treat, Rhee. If you'd like something with a bit more kick to it…"

"Thanks, but I'll stick to the tea for now," Rhiannon sighed.

The grey-haired woman shrugged and caught the attention of the waitress. "Suit yourself. I'll have a Blishen's, please, and make it a double while you're at it."

"Aunt Minerva!"

Taking in the expression written in the blue eyes staring at her, the elder witch smirked. "I told you I don't get out much, so make trouble whilst you can, yes?"

"Now," McGonagall stated after they had placed their orders. "Why don't you tell me what it is that Severus has done now?"

Her goddaughter snorted under her breath and rubbed her temples. "I like how you always assume it has to do with him."

"Doesn't it?"

The brunette sighed and picked at the edge of the table with her fingernail for a moment. "Well, firstly, he refused to wear the costume I purchased for him for Halloween, and after I told him that a _costume_ was required for the _costume_ party, he decided that he won't even accompany me to work that evening."

"He's always been a stick in the mud, you know," Minerva said with a sympathetic smile. "And he's nearly fifty, so I doubt he'll change his ways anytime soon. You know what they say – if you can't fix him in the first half-century, you're piss out of luck for the next two."

"I know," she exhaled. "It's just frustrating because he said he would go, so I spent ages trying to come up with something that wasn't embarrassing or stupid so he wouldn't hate it. I thought I was being clever, but if he won't go, then mine won't work because, without him for context, I'll just look like some expensive Muggle prostitute.

"It was clever, Rhee," the elder woman smirked, folding her arms. "But you do realize the only ones who would get it are those that were raised in the Muggle world, don't you?"

"I know, but I still need a new costume if I'm going by myself."

"We'll just have to sort that out after we eat," McGonagall declared. "Now… what else has he done? This glum look of yours cannot all just be about a Hallows Eve party at the Three Broomsticks."

Rhiannon donned an exasperated look.

"Oh, humor me, if you would, Rhee. I've just turned seventy-two, and gossiping about former colleagues is one of the few pleasures I've got left."

"You are absolutely ridiculous, Aunt Min." The woman shifted while their food arrived, waiting until she had taken a few bites to speak in a low voice. "It's really more of what he hasn't done."

"Oh?" Her godmother leaned forward. "You ought to talk to him then. It's quite obvious to me that he cares for you."

"Is it?"

"Yes!" she replied with an emphatic nod. "He asked you to go to Norway with him, didn't he?"

"Actually, he didn't. I had to ask him if I could go."

Minerva pinched her lips together. "Well, he still agreed to it. And for as incredibly intelligent as he is, he's still remarkably dense."

"Perhaps," the young woman sighed. She fell silent while eating, and then leaned back in her seat. "You've known him longer than I have. When he's made up his mind about something, do you think he'll reconsider at some point in the future?"

McGonagall eyed her curiously while sipping her drink. "I guess I'm not sure what you're referring to, but the man is stubborn, as you well know."

"That's what I thought," she murmured, picking up her fork again. "He doesn't really seem to change his mind about anything."

"Not necessarily," the Headmistress countered. "He tends to change it for the better when he truly, deeply cares for someone."

"And what if I've changed?" the witch asked quietly. "What if I've discovered that I want something else?"

"Rhiannon… do you not care for him any longer?"

"No, that's not it at all," she breathed, shaking her head. "I love him, Aunt Min. I truly do… so much so that it hurts to think about him ever walking away."

"Why would he do that?" When no explanation was forthcoming, Minerva frowned. "Rhiannon Isobel Ross, you are worrying me."

"Sorry," she mumbled, peering out the nearest window. After a minute, she glanced back at the elderly witch. "Have you ever had to choose between the man you love and the person you want to be?"

McGonagall swallowed uncomfortably. "As a matter of fact, I have."

"And what did you choose?"

"Well, I chose…," she sighed deeply for a moment. "I chose the life I thought I wanted to lead. I thought I would have had to sacrifice everything for him, so I didn't want give him the chance to disappoint me. I've since realized, however, that I never actually gave him the chance to astound me, either. I assumed how he would react to my being a witch, so I never bothered to tell him. I just left, and by the time I figured out I had made a mistake, it was too late."

The younger woman took in a deep breath and pushed her food about the plate.

"Rhee, you need to talk to him," Minerva instructed gently. "Whatever it is that is wrong, give him the chance to respond. He doesn't often change his mind, but when it's something important, the man has been known to move mountains."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

With a pounding headache, Severus Snape spun into the fireplace of his Cokeworth home. As a brilliant flash of light and deafening crack greeted him, his wand shot immediately into his hand. By the time he realized it was only thunder and lightning, it was too late to stop the nonverbal blasting spell that had left his wand.

Staring at the smoldering mass which had originally been his end table and wingback chair, his shoulders slumped in defeat. Nearly ten years had passed since the fall of the Dark Lord, yet the former spy's reflexes still periodically functioned on overdrive. Generally, he had enough control to verify the existence of a threat before hexing, but in moments of extreme stress or fatigue, he was prone to reacting without thinking first.

It was the major reason he tried to stay out of the public eye as much as possible – besides the fact that he had never been an extrovert. Over the past few years, people – reporters and 'hero-worshippers', especially –had displayed the irritating tendency of popping out of nowhere to grab his attention, and though he had never actually wounded anyone, he did not want to take the chance.

Angrily resheathing his wand, Severus pinched the bridge of his nose. After the long day he had spent fixing the damage that an incompetent new apprentice had caused and getting everything prepared for his upcoming absence, the only thing he had wanted to do was crawl into bed and bury his face against Rhiannon's soft skin.

_Oh gods… Rhiannon_. His pulse spiked again as he glanced wildly about the room for any sign of her presence. When he called her name a few times and heard no response, he wiped his face in relief. He did not want to think about what could have happened had she been in the room, or sitting in the chair that was now a pile of charred matter.

Tears of frustration pricked at his eyes, and the wizard grit his teeth as he realized that after a near-decade, he still did not have full control of himself. It had taken him an entire year to get to the point where he trusted himself enough to let the witch spend the night. To cut down on the risk of having an anxiety attack upon waking in the middle of the night in unfamiliar surroundings, he only let it happen at his residence. And when he thought the circumstances may lend themselves to an episode, he sent her home.

He had been trying to work on it, but as the present condition of his sitting room could attest, he had a long way to go.

At the sound of frenzied tapping, Severus gave one last disgusted sigh and stalked over to the nearest window where a small barn owl could be seen. Raising the sash, he snarled quietly when the sopping wet bird slammed into his fingers and flew past him into the room. He was about to close the window when a second bird screeched through the opening, dropping its message onto the floor next to the first. As the owls showed no signs of immediately leaving as they perched on the back of the sofa and proceeded to preen their wings, Snape slammed the window shut and snatched up the soggy scrolls from the floor. With a whispered spell, he dried the parchments, and then unrolled the first missive.

**_Severus,_**

**_Lapelli's. Case #4. Opal and diamond._**

**_If I were you, I would practice opening your pocketbook before leaving. We wouldn't want it to cramp up in the moment of truth. You had better not scoff at the price, skinflint. We both know she's worth it._**

**_Minerva_**

The wizard snorted as he stuffed the note in his pocket. The old biddy had certainly wasted no time in finding a ring her goddaughter would prefer. It had not even been a week since he had approached her with the request to help him find a suitable engagement ring. Once she had finally stopped strangling him with her bony arms wrapped around his neck, the Headmistress had eagerly accepted the task.

"She had better have been subtle about it," he sighed, glancing at one bird prancing upon the sofa. He had a sneaking suspicion that the other owl had disappeared into the kitchen.

Claiming the armchair that had not been blasted to smithereens, Snape stared out at the stormy night. Now that he knew which ring to get, he only had to figure out what to do with it. And _where_ to do it. And _when_ to do it. And _if_ he still could bring himself to do it given the fact he had just blown up half his sitting room because it was raining.

On the other hand, if he did not follow through, Minerva would have his testicles for Christmas ornaments.

Shaking his head, the man cracked the seal on the second note and unfurled it.

**_Time to piss or get off the pot, Severus. She's growing weary._**

Severus stroked his thumb over his lips as he considered the warning. Minerva was rather level-headed – in his opinion – and not generally prone to hyperbole. If Rhiannon was uncertain of his intentions, he needed to fix it and soon. He would go to Diagon Alley in the morning, withdraw a handsome sum of money from his Gringotts vault, and then find the ring.

And it just so happened that they had a portkey scheduled to depart for the land of the Northern Lights on Monday afternoon. It was rather last minute, but he could make a Floo-call from his office to arrange something suitable. Though it had accelerated his timetable a bit, he had to agree that Fate could not have given him a better venue.

With that thought, the wizard pushed out of his chair and quickly restored the damaged furniture. He then made his way to the kitchen to shoo the invading birds out of his house, but paused upon seeing them happily pecking away at a plate of eggs, toast, and sausage.

It was the plate he had made up and placed under a warming charm for Rhiannon before he had left. The show of domesticity was admittedly out of character for him, but he knew that she had not been feeling well during the past few days and that she often skipped breakfast. There had been a rash of Selkie-flu cases popping up lately, and he hoped that she was not coming down with it. It was one thing to look a bit green about the gills, but an entirely different matter to start growing actual gills.

Sighing, Severus realized that he should have left a note with the potions telling her to eat. It was likely that she had not even ventured into the kitchen before leaving for London herself. After opening the kitchen window, he herded the two small owls – one with a large piece of sausage gripped within its beak – out into the rainy night. He quickly disposed of the meal remnants and then strode back through the sitting room to the staircase.

Stepping into his bedroom, the man smirked at the unkempt bedclothes. He was not certain why, but he found it endearing that Rhiannon had messy tendencies. As long as she did not leave things out on the floor that resulted in his tripping during the middle of the night and blasting a hole through the ceiling, he did not mind it in the least.

Tossing aside his outer robes and unbuttoning his cuffs, he moved into the bathroom. An eyebrow rose at the sight of a book lying against the clawed foot of the tub, and he bent down to retrieve it. It was one of his mother's that he found in her school trunk in the attic – _The Good Witch's Guide to Essential Household Charms _– and provided information on basic housekeeping, mending, cooking, and first aid.

_That's odd_. Rhiannon – a former professional Quidditch player turned barmaid – had never expressed much interest in those areas, so it was curious that she would be reading it in the lavatory. Stifling a yawn, he decided he would just have to ask her.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

The house was perfectly still when Rhiannon stepped out of the Floo the following afternoon. Cursory looks into the kitchen, out the window facing the back garden, and down the basement staircase yielded no clues as to the Potions Master's whereabouts. After the _Hominum Revelio_ she cast turned up empty, she came to stand in the center of the sitting room and folded her arms to her chest.

Severus Snape never went out on the weekend. He hated crowds. So if he was gone, it had to mean that he went back into the laboratory. And that meant she had absolutely no way of knowing when he would be home.

The witch blew out a frustrated breath and tugged on the end of her thick braid. After parting ways with her godmother, she had spent the night thinking through every aspect of her current situation. Motherhood had never been on her list of her priorities, but now that it had suddenly dropped into her lap, she found it was something she really did want.

And since there was no other man whose child she would rather bear, she had decided to take the Headmistress's advice. Severus deserved the chance to respond to the situation. She did not doubt that there might be shouting, but if he truly loved her, he would be willing to work through it with her. On the other hand, if he wanted nothing to do with the child, she was fully prepared to end their relationship and raise it on her own.

Anxiety built in her chest at the thought, and she was tempted to leave. However, the woman knew that the discussion needed to take place before they embarked on their Scandinavian adventure.

After a number of minutes passed, Rhiannon sighed at the realization that she had to wee again. Mounting the staircase, she paused briefly on the landing when something caught her attention. The photograph she had placed on his end table was missing. When she did not see it stashed anywhere else in the sitting room, she pinched her lips together and stomped up the rest of the stairs.

Half an hour later found her crawling on top of the bed, simultaneously disgusted with him for hiding the picture away and with herself for being so upset over something so trivial. Pulling a pillow to her chest, the witch yawned and closed her eyes, resigning herself to wait until after their baby discussion to ask him what he had done with it.

* * *

Upon apparating into his living room, Severus could tell immediately that his house was not as empty as it had been when he left. Nothing was disturbed, but there was a certain energy that was present when Rhiannon was home.

_Home? You're getting ahead of yourself, Snape. You've only bought the ring; it isn't yet on her finger._ Taking in a deep breath, the wizard hung his cloak upon its hook and slipped the small silver box out of the pocket. After casting a quick glance about the darkened main floor, he quickly disappeared into the basement and stashed the jewelry box in the warded case that held his most valuable ingredients. He then returned to the sitting room and quietly crept up the staircase to the second floor, careful not to tread on any of the creaky spots on the steps.

A smile quirked at his lips as he reached the master bedroom and caught sight of the woman on his bed. Leaning against the door jamb, he watched his witch sleep for several minutes. He could not quite believe that someone so beautiful would ever want to spend one night in his bed, let alone two years. After the debacle of Potter telling the entire world that he held undying love for Lily, he had been hesitant of women – he did not want to say that he had been scared of them, but one must call a spade a spade – but with Rhiannon, it had seemed natural.

Smirking, he pulled off his boots and sat beside her, placing a kiss to her temple.

"Sev?" she mumbled softly, stirring awake.

"How are you feeling?"

"I've been better," she grimaced. "Where were you?"

"Last minute errands," he replied. "Have you finished packing?"

Rhiannon let out a small groan as she sat up. "Severus, we need to talk."

"About?"

"There's something I need to tell you."

He raised one eyebrow.

"I just found out that… well, the reason I've been unwell is… fuck." The witch took in a deep breath and folded her arms against her stomach. "I'm… preg-uhh-nt."

"You're mumbling," he replied shortly. "I didn't hear that."

Rhiannon closed her eyes and whimpered. "I'm pregnant."

When he did nothing but stare at her, she frowned. "Did you hear it that time, or do I need to say it again?"

"Are you having me on?" Snape asked quietly, fixing her with a look reminiscent of his teaching days.

"No!" she hissed. "You think I would _joke_ about something like that?"

A minute passed without a word from the wizard, and she could feel her anxiety rising with every passing second. "Well, say _something_!"

Severus opened his mouth to speak and then promptly shut it. After taking in a few hesitant breaths, he crossed his arms and donned a scowl. "I suppose this is the part where you tell me you've started up with someone else, and it's his child you're carrying."

Before she even realized it had happened, her open hand had struck him against the side of his face. Half a second later, she fled into the bathroom and slammed the door shut behind her. With heaving breaths and tears erupting out of her eyes, she slid down to the floor.

After several minutes of uncontrolled sobbing, Rhiannon pulled herself back to her feet. She could not stay there any longer and stupidly, she had locked herself in the room with only one physical exit. Knowing she was not stable enough to attempt apparition without splinching anything, she steeled herself enough to yank open the door and storm past the dark-haired man.

As fast as she could, the woman ran down the stairs toward the fireplace. Before Severus had even reached the bottom of the staircase, she had disappeared through the green flames.

"Damn it!" he shouted, slamming his hand against the mantel. He tossed a handful of Floo powder into the grate, but when no response came to his calls, the wizard slumped in defeat.

How long he stood there, holding his head in his hands, he could not be certain, but eventually he was drawn to the window by the sound of talons scraping against the glass. Recognizing the handwriting upon the folded piece of paper, he abruptly snatched it away from the protesting bird.

**_Well you've certainly buggered everything up, haven't you?_**

He scowled at the first line, but eagerly drank in every detail his former colleague offered. Rhiannon had decided to spend her vacation at the school and had no desire to speak to him.

**_Go to your conference and give her the week to figure things out. She needs time to calm down before you try talking out of your arsehole again._**

Crumpling the letter into a ball, Severus sank down into his armchair. Everything had gone to shit, and it was entirely his fault.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

As the moon cast its eerie glow over the streets of Hogsmeade village, Snape suddenly appeared at the end of the lane leading up to the Three Broomsticks. He had spent a miserable week in Norway, and upon his return to England, the continued hollowness of his home had been torturous. Several times, he had been tempted to drown himself in a bottle of firewhiskey, but could never bring himself to actually do it. During the past week, he had often been haunted by the memories of his own childhood. Alcohol had helped fuel his father's descent into cruelty and that led the Potions Master to drain every bottle of booze he could find down the sink.

Refusing to follow in the footsteps of Tobias Snape, he was determined to give his child a better life than he had lived. Before he could do that, however, he needed to fix things with Rhiannon. His letters over the past two days had gone unanswered, but as the annual Hallow's Eve Bash was in full swing at the Three Broomsticks, he was relatively certain as to where he could find her.

Severus growled, dodging out of the way of a stumbling pair of ghouls before ripping open the door to the pub. His forward progress, however, was halted by an inebriated Ronald Weasley dressed as a Chudley Cannon.

"Bloody hell, mate – good costume," the ginger blurted out as he was guided through the door. "Looks just like the bastard, doesn't he, 'Mione? Scary."

The Slytherin glared at the pair until the former Miss Granger gave him an apologetic look. He smirked briefly at the memory elicited by her current feline-like ensemble, but grimaced at catching sight of her visibly swollen stomach.

_My child will share classes with a Granger-Weasley production_. With a sigh of disgust upon his lips, he strode into the strangely lit pub and maneuvered his way through the throngs of costumed drunkards.

"Severus," Rosmerta stated tersely, pushing three drinks down the length of the bar. "She isn't here. I sent her home twenty minutes ago."

"Alone?" he snapped angrily.

"No!" she shouted to be heard over the din. "Robert took her, which is why I'm exceptionally busy right now, so if you don't mind…"

Grumbling loudly, the wizard shoved away from the bar and stalked back toward the exit. After pushing past the rear-half of a Hippogriff, he stomped down the stone path and disapparated. A second later, he arrived on the front step of a small house near the edge of town.

"Rhiannon!" he called, knocking loudly before glancing toward the brightly lit window. "Open the door!"

The door cracked open a moment later. "What do you want?"

"To speak to you."

She sighed and turned away from the door. Taking that as an invitation, Snape slipped into her sitting room. He briefly eyed the filmy blue outfit she was wearing and decided based upon its revealing nature that she was channeling a water nymph. Frowning, he glanced about the room and then cleared his throat. "Is _Robert_ here?"

"No," she glanced over her shoulder at him and then crossed her arms. "He needed to get back to help Rosmerta, so I suppose I'll just have to wait until after the party to fuck him."

"Rhiannon, I didn't – "

"Oh, but you damn well implied it, didn't you?" the woman hissed. "I slept with you the first night, so my bedroom must have a revolving door. The fallen Quidditch star must have a thing for riding brooms, right? Always trying to get the Quaffle through the hoop – guess I finally caught the Snitch, huh?"

"I never thought that!" he snapped.

"No? Oh, so you only thought I would let some other man sprog me up and then try to pass the child off as yours so he or she would have a more famous father! Maybe if I laid on enough shame and guilt you would do the right thing and marry me, because I must have done it on purpose!"

"No! I only said that because you never actually stated we were exclusive!"

"You didn't think we were exclusive?" Rhiannon shrieked. "That's why you… So all this time, I'm the one who's been a fool. I thought … but you…"

"Rhiannon, I –"

"How many?" she demanded, pushing her finger into his chest.

"I never –"

"How many were you fucking while I was falling in love with you?"

"I wasn't –"

"That's why you didn't want the picture, isn't it? You'd have to –"

"Damn it! Would you shut your mouth for one bloody minute?" Severus bellowed, raising his hands. His anger dissipated into fear, however, when she flinched, shielding her face and abdomen. He swallowed a lump in his throat, dropping his hands to his sides as she collapsed onto the sofa, shaking with tears. "Rhiannon, I didn't mean to frighten you. I wasn't going to strike you. I would never –"

"I know," she sniffled, covering her face in embarrassment. "It was just a reflex."

The man frowned and claimed the seat beside her. Hesitantly, he pulled her hands down and eyed her face. His gut clenched upon noting the small split in her lip and faint red marks upon her right cheek. "Who did this?"

"Some drunk who got handsy, and when I told him to bugger off, he hit me," she responded, pulling her hands away from him and wrapping them around her midsection. "Rosmerta banned him for life and had Robert take me home."

"Who?" he repeated forcefully.

"It doesn't matter." She shook her head. "I've had far worse during matches, and he probably won't remember doing it."

Snape grit his teeth and fisted his hands in his robes. He silently vowed that if he ever were to learn the identity of the man, he would very much make him regret ever having dared to lay a hand upon his witch, intoxicated or not.

The woman sighed and wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. "Just so you know, I've decided to have the baby."

"There was a chance you would consider otherwise?" he murmured, raising one eyebrow.

She ran her hand through her hair and breathed deeply. "There was before I told you. But I've realized that despite what you may or may not want, I _do_ want to be a mother and this may be my only chance. If you want to have some part in his or her life, I will not deny you that, but if you don't, I won't ask you for anything. I will raise the child on my own."

"What? On a barmaid's salary?" he scoffed, earning himself a glare.

"I have funds stored away!" the witch snapped, rising from the sofa. "If they run out, Aunt Min or my family will help. I don't need you, so I won't disrupt any more of your… life than you wish."

"Rhiannon," the Potions Master stated slowly, "there was never anyone else sharing my bed while I've been with you."

"Well, thanks for that, I guess," she murmured, staring out the dark window.

Severus watched her for a moment before rising to his feet. "You never told me you wanted children."

"Because I didn't know that I did," the woman replied, facing him. "And you told me you didn't, so I guess we're at an impasse."

"That doesn't mean I wouldn't support you if an accident happened!"

"An accident," she whispered. "Tell me, Severus – if it had been Lily Evans in my position, telling you that _she_ was pregnant with your child, would you have accused _her_ of whoring around?"

"What does that have to do with anything?" he growled.

"Everything!" Rhiannon cried, throwing up her hands. "You did more for her child than most fathers I know would do for their own, and he wasn't even yours!"

Her eyes widened a second later. "Oh, gods – _is_ he yours?"

"What? No!" the man scowled. "Why does everyone keep asking me that? He's the spitting image of his father for Merlin's sake!"

"Because you love her!" The witch drew in a shaky breath. "I thought I could deal with that, but maybe I can't. I'm going to have a child to care for, and I can't waste my energy everyday wondering if you'll ever love me like you do her."

"Rhiannon –"

"No, Severus. I can't do it anymore." Tears rolled down her cheeks as shook her head. "Did you know that I _lied_ to Aunt Min and my friends? I told them that roses are my favorite flower; because I thought that if you ever asked them, you would be reminded of her if they said I prefer tiger lilies. Not that it mattered – you never once bought me flowers!"

"I didn't know you wanted flowers," he protested lamely.

She growled in frustration. "It's not about whether I wanted tokens of affection or not – it's about you thinking enough of me to give them!"

"Rhiannon, I care for you deeply."

"Well, that's the first I've heard of it," she muttered.

The wizard winced, ducking his head. After a moment, he raised his eyes to hers in a hopeful gaze. "You said that you had fallen in love with me?"

"It's not enough," Rhiannon sighed, shaking her head. "I've been second-string for a really long time, and I'm tired of it. I deserve to be more than just a consolation prize because you couldn't have Lily! _I_ deserve to have a man love _me_ like that! A man who would sacrifice everything to protect _my_ child, whether it's his or not! A man who would wear a stupid Halloween costume just because I asked him to! A man that I don't have to wonder about whether or not he actually loves me because he makes it a point not only to tell me every day, but to _show_ me! A man who embraces the chance to be a father and doesn't _ever_ make me think that I have to sacrifice my dreams or desires to be with him! A man who actually wants to be _seen_ with me and doesn't try to hide all trace of my existence in his life!"

His eyes narrowed in confusion. "What do you mean by that?"

"One picture, Severus!" She held up her pointer finger. "One fucking picture in two years, and you can't be bothered to let anyone see it!"

"What are you talking about? It's on the –"

"No, it isn't! I looked everywhere for that stupid photo, and it wasn't there!"

"It wasn't… Oh." Comprehension dawned upon him as he remembered where his latest blasting spell had landed. "I blew it up…"

"You _what_?" With her lower lip trembling and tears forming in her eyes, the witch spun on her heel.

The Slytherin grimaced, realizing how it had sounded. "Rhiannon, let me –"

"Please leave," she interrupted quietly. "I'm exhausted and just want to be alone. If something I've said has upset you, you can owl it to me."

Snape's mouth closed slowly as she disappeared up the stairs. He took in a deep breath, glancing about the room before finally stepping back out into the chilly night. Adjusting his sleeves, he sighed sadly and looked up to the small stained-glass window that belonged to her bathroom.

Agony burned into his chest as he replayed their exchange. Nothing had gone the way it was supposed to. He had been fearful that she would reject his proposal because she did not love him, but he had never imagined that she would end things despite the fact that she did.

The sound of giggling drew his attention toward the darkened lane where a masculine shape had drawn a more feminine one to his side. Severus's eyes watched the pair until their shadowy visages melded into the night sky.

He had hated Halloween ever since Lily had died, and now, twenty-six years later, Rhiannon was slipping through his fingers. He had tried everything he could to save his best friend and still failed, but he had not risked everything to keep the witch who loved him.

She had given him a list of his failings, but he would be damned if he let her walk away without putting up a fight. And there was no way in hell he was going to trust an owl to do the work for him.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Wrapping a large towel about her frame, Rhiannon swiped her wrist through the condensation on her bathroom mirror. As she stared at her reflection for several minutes, she called forth everything she had screamed earlier and considered the advice her godmother had given her.

_Am I making a mistake?_ She gave a loud, mournful sigh and then pushed away from the sink basin. Her heart felt as though she had physically torn it into two, but her head was trying to convince her that she had done the right thing. She did not want to end their relationship, but if it was doomed to fail, it was better to do it when she still had time to put herself back to rights before their baby arrived.

_My baby_, she corrected mentally, since Severus had not seemed very enthusiastic about the child.

Though she had asked him to leave, a large part of her had hoped that he would refuse. Even if all he had done was shout at her to come back down stairs and hear him out right then and there, it would have shown he cared somewhat as much as he claimed. But so far, she had yet to see any mountains being moved.

"Even a mole hill would have been nice," the witch murmured, stepping into the narrow corridor at the top of the stairs. The cool air inspired her to move quickly toward her bedroom door even though the only thing she had left to do was crawl into bed and cry herself to sleep.

Upon crossing the threshold, however, her breath caught in the back of her throat, and she very nearly lost hold of the towel covering her body.

"Severus," she gasped. "What are you doing?"

"I apologize for startling you." The man rose to his feet from where he had been perched upon her mattress. "I know you wanted to be alone, but I… I need to tell you something."

"Severus –"

He silenced her by holding up one hand. "Please, let me say this before you throw me out. The only thing that upset me was learning that I had caused you so much pain. I never intended to harm or mislead you, and I wanted you to know that I was… I was in love with you before you even tricked me into going to Minerva's 70th birthday party."

"You were?" she whispered in shock.

Snape gave a faint smile and nodded. "It was the only thing that kept me from immediately disapparating."

"But it's been two years, Severus. You've never said anything."

He shrugged uncomfortably. "I didn't know how. I'm not exactly well-versed in maintaining relationships. This is honestly the longest – no, this is really the only relationship I've ever had."

Rhiannon shifted her weight. "What about _her_?"

The man grimaced and exhaled loudly. "Lily and I were never… like _that_. She was my best friend – my _only_ friend. I'm not exaggerating when I say she was the only person who ever gave two shits about me while I was a child. I envisioned us together while I was a boy, but only because I could never imagine anyone else wanting to have anything to do with me.

"I loved her, yes. I will always carry a piece of her with me, but it is nothing like what I feel for you." He sighed and met her gaze. "As for Potter… If there were only one person in the entire world who had ever made you happy, and your stupidity was directly responsible for her death, wouldn't you do everything you could to make amends? To keep her son alive and not waste her sacrifice?"

The witch tipped her head forward, allowing her damp, dark curls to hide her watery eyes. A moment later, she straightened her posture. "If you love me, why do you always push me away?"

Severus sighed as he sat upon the bed. "I wished never to have to tell you… but there are times when I cannot… keep control of myself."

"What do you mean?"

"I…" His face twisted in disgust as he stared down at his hands. After a few clumsily attempts, he admitted all of his weaknesses – the vivid nightmares, the occasional anxiety attacks, the jumpiness he felt while in the midst of a crowd, his reflexive overreactions, the fear of accidentally harming someone, and the unfortunate fate that had befallen their photograph.

By the time he had finished, Rhiannon was quivering with the urge to cry. Instead, she swallowed back a sob, moving toward him with an unsteady hand extended. She gently touched his face as she whispered, "Why didn't you tell me?"

Pain was evident in his eyes as he turned his head to kiss the palm of her hand. "I thought I would lose you if you knew."

"No," she shook her head.

"It's why I couldn't return to teaching," Snape explained quietly, pressing her hand to his face with his own. "And why I did not want children. If I ever harmed a child, accidently or not, I would never be able to forgive myself. Not after everything I've done…"

"Oh, Severus," she gasped, sinking delicately onto his lap. "But you've been doing better, yes?"

He ducked his head in shame. "It will be ten years in May."

"So?" the woman shrugged. "It takes time, but I know you, Severus Snape. If anyone could ever conquer something like this, it's you."

"You have far more confidence in my abilities than do I," he mumbled, resting his forehead against hers.

Rhiannon chuckled softly as she ran her fingers through his hair. "Who doesn't? You don't give yourself near enough credit. I don't think I could find a better man anywhere."

"You said it wasn't enough," he replied, pulling away just far enough to meet her eyes.

The witch exhaled deeply and donned a sheepish smile. "That was before you told me all of this. And before you showed up here wearing your Halloween costume."

"I look ridiculous," the wizard grumbled, glancing down at his front.

"You do not! Quite the opposite, in fact," she smiled, touching her lips to his jawline. "I think you shall have to wear a tuxedo more often."

Severus rolled his eyes and then gestured toward her bedside table. "I brought you flowers."

Rhiannon laughed as she eyed the vase full of bright orange lilies. "You weren't gone that long. How did you –"

"I happen to know that Pomona Sprout keeps a variety of lilies in one of the school greenhouses," he answered.

"And you asked Aunt Min?"

He shook his head, flashing a smirk. "As far as the Hogwarts wards are concerned: once a Headmaster, always a Headmaster."

"You mean you broke into the school and stole flowers for me?" she asked; her eyes wide.

"Well, I doubt they'll dispatch the Aurors after me."

Rhiannon smiled and kissed him lightly. "I'll beg the Headmistress for leniency if it comes to it."

"Would you?" he remarked quietly. "Even after all of the shrieking I've earned?"

She nodded slowly and then flicked her eyes to his. "Severus, what about the baby?"

"I want you to promise me one thing," the man stated carefully, taking her hand in his. "If ever you think it necessary, I want you to do what you did tonight."

"Yell at you?"

He sighed and cleared his throat. "I want you to put yourself and our child first. If you ever have concerns about the child's or your well-being and safety around me, I want you to take him or her and leave."

"Severus –"

"No," he interrupted her protest. "I mean it. I vow to do everything in my power to protect you, but should I ever become my father's son, I need to know you will intercede. I need you to be a mother above all else. I refuse to allow my child to be raised like I was."

The witch fought back a protest and met his pleading look with a nod. "I promise."

"Thank you," he whispered with relief. After a lengthy moment, he slipped his hand into a pocket and withdrew a silver box. "I planned to give you this in Norway."

Rhiannon blinked at him quizzically before propping open the lid to reveal the opal ring from the jewelry shop. "How did you… Aunt Min told you, didn't she? No – it's too much, Severus."

The wizard shook his head. "It's less than you deserve. Whether you'll have me or not, the ring is yours."

"Whether I'll have you?" she repeated, meeting his eyes before climbing to her feet and holding out the box. "Well, you had better do it properly, then."

Severus snorted before positioning himself on bended knee. "Rhiannon Isobel Ross, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"

"Will you let me put up pictures of us?" she asked, quirking her lips.

"As long as they're not horrid."

The witch laughed and briefly ducked her head before catching his gaze. Tears began welling up in her eyes again, and she struggled to keep control of her voice as she nodded emphatically. "Then, yes."

A smile broke out on his face as he slid the ring onto her finger and then rose to his feet, pulling her into a passionate kiss. A minute or so later, he pulled away when she began giggling. "What?"

"Nothing really," she smiled. "I was just thinking that your costume is rather fitting, don't you? I mean James Bond always gets the girl in the end."

Severus rolled his eyes and then smirked. "As I recall, he tends to get them naked as well."

A loud laugh escaped her lips as she released the towel, allowing it to drop to the floor between their feet. "Done."

* * *

_A/N: Fin! I hope you enjoyed it..._


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